Teen Wolf Fic Requests
by CescaLR
Summary: Three as of writing this summary. This collection includes; Gifts At Christmas - Stalia, As The Months Fly By - Stalia, and A Little Bit Of Help, Please - also Stalia. Requests are open, I reserve the right to refuse, of course, but I'll definitely hear you out :) Genres subject to change. Romance applies to all so far, angst to two of them. Character tags subject to change.
1. A Little Bit of Help, Please?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at  works/13059696.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/M, Gen

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship:

Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Scott McCall & Malia Tate, Lydia Martin &

Malia Tate, Malia Tate & Cora Hale, Malia Tate & Erica Reyes, Malia

Tate & Kylie Tate, Malia Tate & Mrs. Tate, Malia Tate & Henry Tate,

Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Theo Raeken, Past

Stora, Past Sterica, Past Staitlin, Future Stalia, Minor or Background Relationship(s), itty bit of Scolia, also past Stiles/Heather whoops sorry

Character:

Malia Tate, Malia Tate's Sister, i.e. Kylie Tate, Cora Hale, Erica

Reyes, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate's Mother, i.e. Mrs

Tate

Additional Tags:

Mostly Gen, Shippy Gen, Tumblr Prompt, Prompt Fic, this is a drabble by my standards I guess, Short One Shot, Stalia Music/Band AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music,

Drummer/Guitarist!Stiles, Singer/Drummer!Malia, etc - Freeform,

Swearing

Series:

Part 1 of Fic Idea Promts/Tumblr Stuffs/One-shots

Stats:

Published: 2017-12-18 Words: 1658

 **A Little Bit Of Help, Please?**

by CescaLR

Summary

Malia... may or may not have lied about knowing how to play the drums.

... whoops.

Notes

tumblr prompt from generally-fantastic-things, aka before_i_sleep, thus the gifting.

See the end of the work for more notes

Malia has a gig coming up in a few weeks, and she -

Well, okay. Maybe she lied, a tad, about knowing how to play the drums. But this band she's in it had been her one chance at something bigger than singing at Kylie's birthday party, and though Malia loves her sister - truly - Cora, well, she's a good bio-cousin, and she put in a word with some guy called Stiles, who put in a good word with some girl called Erica, who got her a spot in a band she sort-of manages. Her boyfriend Boyd plays bass, apparently.

Unfortunately, Malia had just found out that her spot was mainly drumming and a little singing which, fine, except Malia hardly knows how to play the drums and she's a singer, first and foremost. So that's a thing.

"Stiles knows a thing or two," Cora had told her. Erica had repeated much the same sentiment. "He's not part of a band, really, just substitutes in for drummers and guitarists on occasion as a favour to me," Erica says. "As an apology."

Apology for what, Malia can't say. Anyway, Kylie's friend Hayden's boyfriend Liam's mentor/personal lacrosse coach Scott is best friends with Stiles, so he's driving her round to Stiles' on his motorbike.

Man, if her dad knew. He'd go ballistic.

Anyway. Malia hears the knock at the door and breezes on past her mother, who winks and smiles in a way that says 'I won't let your dad know, go have fun' because apparently, her mother is great. Nice.

Her dad's been a little overprotective ever since that scare a few years back when the roads were icy and the car crashed into a tree on the side of the road. Luck had it that they weren't injured nobody was in the front passenger seat - and they laughed it off, however uneasy they felt, because - well, they were fine, really.

Malia still hadn't gotten her driver's licence, but - well. That's a whole other thing entirely.

"Hi, you must be Malia." the guy she assumes to be Scott says. "Yeah," Malia replies. "That's me."

Scott grins at her, nods in the direction of the road out from her house. Living in the middle of the woods isn't bad, really, except for shitty wifi, shitty road access, and it being really cold, like, all the time except for when it's unbearably hot.

Malia rather thinks of herself as a little cold-blooded. It's only the tail end of summer, but she's already in autumn clothing - a tank-top, long sleeve shirt, hoodie, jacket. Leggings and shorts and boots and argyle socks.

Malia has her own kinda style. So what if Lydia's a little snide about it sometimes? Malia can deal with the Queen Bee so long as she keeps tutoring her. Not that Lydia would ever let her tell anyone she tutors Malia, but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, Lydia spends most of her time with the new guy in town who was forcibly resigned from the army after suffering some severe injuries from an explosion. It was all over the local news a little while back, but as it stands - Malia hasn't heard gossip about the guy for a while. He works at the Station, even if he isn't an official deputy - Malia thinks it might be pity, but she's not sure. Either way, the Sheriff makes sure he gets a paycheck.

Malia thinks this Stiles guy - who's home from college for the summer, as is Scott and Lydia (Malia goes to the local community college, mostly because her dad would freak if she didn't. Either of her dads.) - is the Sheriff's kid. Cora thinks he's alright (they were a thing a while back, back in high school) but Malia reserves judgment.

"Come on then," Scott says, cheerful and bright - Malia knows why some of her friends gush about him; he's like the fucking sun given human form or some other such poetic bullshit. Kind of her type, but not quite, and besides - he's dating Allison, even if she studies in France. She's learning to take over the family business, as far as Malia knows; they're weapons dealers for the government, the Argents, and Malia thinks you need to know quite a lot about guns and the rest to be any good at that. Because - well - the government. Fucking hell.

Malia hasn't seen Allison around this summer. Malia sometimes wonders - in that gossipy way teenagers always wonder - if there's a strain on Scott's relationship with her because Scott's always around this Kira girl and Allison spends a lot of time with this Isaac character, but Malia knows very little, so she can't really say either way.

Malia nods and follows the other young adult (eighteen - he's almost a year younger than her; Malia's one of the oldest in her year group) out onto the dirt path. She takes the offered helmet and mounts the bike behind Scott.

"Hold on," He advises, and they're off.

Malia isn't sure how much she likes motorbikes, really. They're cool to look at, and all, but it feels like you're always a hair's breadth away from crashing and being crushed to death, so Malia rather thinks she doesn't like them - but then, there's the rush of wind on her face and the sheer speed you can get to (although they are staying safely below the legal limit) and there's the fact that they can get places easier than cars can, and Malia returns to being wholly uncertain.

Once they're there, Malia dismounts and returns the helmet. She pats down her hair and says "Thanks," to which Scott nods, grins like he's fucking sunshine personified and says "No problem." Malia's almost glad when he's gone, because goddamn. You could get blinded by that

shit.

Malia turns and walks up to the door - and then, she's suddenly nervous. She doesn't really want to seem like an utter idiot, but then Malia did lie about being able to play the drums so quite honestly she kind of is, but it was one of those lies you blurt out and immediately regret but will defend 'til your dying breath.

Malia steadies herself and knocks. Whoever this Stiles guy is, she hopes he's not like some of the other drummers and guitarists she's met - the freelance ones who generally stick to only indie bands and have that god awful over-one-eye emo fringe haircut and about ten death metal t-shirts they switch between regularly, but likely have never actually listened to the bands or songs printed across the front.

Thank fucking god, she thinks when she first register's the appearance of the about-her-age guy who answers the door a few moments later. The next thing she thinks is fuck, he's good-looking because Malia isn't adverse to these sorts of thoughts. Malia doesn't and has never seen why registering a person's level of attractiveness in your own head before anything else could be considered rude - she rather thinks its a compliment (if you think they're pretty, that is) - but whatever. It's not like you're gonna share it immediately anyway, so what's the harm in a little appreciation?

He's a pale guy, but not in the I-never-leave-the-house-wow-so-emo way, more the naturally pale, mole-speckled skin kind of pale. His hair is gelled, because of course it is - Malia doesn't know one guy in Beacon Hills that doesn't do that when their hair is long enough (aside from Liam - but again, the kid is still that; a kid. He'll do it eventually) it's kind of weird - and it's not a bad look, quite frankly. He's got a fairly strong jaw and a lean but - well - strong build, and Malia definitely gets why Cora smirks a lot when she talks about him.

Damn. She's a lucky lady, her cousin.

(They broke up more because they didn't want to have to deal with distance and besides, they weren't the kind of relationship that wanted to last beyond high school. Cora was Stiles only girlfriend, as far as Cora's aware, but she wasn't the only person he'd been with in one way or another.)

"Hi," He says - belatedly, Malia realizes he's on the phone. "Hold on - Theo, yeah, man, I get it, your sister's a bitch sometimes, yadda yadda, this is literally always your fault she's an actual sweetheart - go apologize you ass - Look, there's someone at the door, I gotta go. Bye, dude."

He hangs up and smiles awkwardly at her, rolling his eyes. "My friend's a bit of a jerk sometimes," He says amicably. "Sorry about that. You're Malia, right?" "Yeah." Malia nods.

Cora's not the only one Malia knows stories of Stiles from - Heather's an infamous oversharer and Erica was never much better (neither was Catilin, for that matter… but, then, that's what Malia gets for having no tact herself) - but Malia wants to make her own judgment of this guy.

Then again, he is friends with actual saint Scott McCall, (Malia's heard of him saving kittens from trees and volunteering at the hospital and working at the veterinary clinic), so he can't be that bad of a guy.

But then, Malia's pretty certain Theo is Theo Raeken, and Stiles is right; he can be a total jackass.

So Malia will hold judgment until she gets to know the guy a little better.

"Come on in," He jerks his head to the side slightly as a gesture for her to follow, then turns and walks inside. Malia enters and closes the door behind herself, before following him upstairs and into his room. It's a little messy, but not that bad, and a lot of the space is taken by his drum kit, while some of the space on his wall is taken by his guitar.

"Make yourself comfortable. It's drumming you need to learn asap, right?" Stiles asks, and Malia nods. "Yeah." "Alright then." He claps his hands and grins at her, infectious. "Let's get started."

End Notes

Tidied up a little bit from the tumblr version. I wasn't really paying attention to the spelling too much over there so there were 31 mistakes, lol. Six of them were like, not mistakes just Grammarly being weird, but for the most part I was just a little lazy. It's been tidied up now, anyway.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	2. As The Months Fly By

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at  works/13092336.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/M, Gen

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship:

Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Malia Tate & Isaac Lahey, Malia Tate &

Liam Dunbar, Malia Tate & Lydia Martin, Malia Tate & Scott McCall,

Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski

Character:

Malia Tate, Isaac Lahey, Liam Dunbar, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin,

Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags:

Stalia AU, season six au, Alternate Universe, Post-Break Up, AU

Series:

Part 2 of Fic Idea Promts/Tumblr Stuffs/One-shots

Stats:

Published: 2017-12-21 Words: 2627

 **As The Months Fly By**

by CescaLR

Summary

'We broke up, and after I'd already left and moved away, months later, I found out that you'd rushed to the airport to stop me but you were too late.'

Notes

hmm, alright, here we go:

See the end of the work for more notes

Malia hadn't really had any reason to stay in Beacon Hills, all things considered. She'd lost her boyfriend, her mother had tried to kill her, her ex had been erased from reality - Malia hadn't had any reason to stay. Sure, she'd had friends - friends who had decided her feelings for her ex didn't exist, friends who had guilt tripped her into staying as long as she did - Malia had had to leave. Her life in Beacon Hills had never been a nice one even when she'd had the memories of her ex and, once she got them back, that's what he was. Her ex. Someone who… just, well, didn't love her any longer.

Or did he? Malia didn't spend her time thinking about those sorts of things - they hurt too much.

And besides, as far as Malia knows, Lydia had resolved to start something with him anyway, and

\- it hurt, sure, but Malia…

He'd told Lydia he'd loved her. That was enough for Malia.

So yes. Malia booked tickets. She's been in France for a few months now and it's - nice. The younger drinking age is a bonus, and even if she's not very good at French the language is nice enough on her ears. The boys are cute enough, even if a few look down on her for not speaking French which she gets; she's in France, after all. Anyway, Malia's staying with Isaac, who lives in a three-bed apartment near where Chris Argent lives with all his Argent buddies.

Isaac isn't around much, really, so Malia hasn't gotten to know him very well. She's kind of glad, in a way, because he vaguely reminds her of Stiles. And that… actually hurts, a little. The vagueness.

Regardless, Malia's free to do what she wants. Which is cool, and all, but she's only free for the rest of the year. Come twenty-fifteen, Malia will no longer be free. Which, ugh, but - that's fine. A year out of education isn't a bad thing; Malia had nine and she's done pretty well for herself, all things considered.

It's not like Malia doesn't miss Beacon Hills in a weird kind of way, though. Not that she isn't glad to be out of that hell hole, it's just that - well, it was familiar. She had friends there, she'd had a home, her dad - not, vehemently not Peter - and it had been - safe. At least emotionally.

Here - it's so different. Small. Beacon Hills was small enough, sure, but that's by the standards of a country way, way bigger than France. Malia feels like she could run across the entirety of the width of France and still be back by dinner, and that's - Stifling, in a way.

So sue her. She's feeling nostalgic. It's been - months, sure, and Malia… well. Call her curious.

Malia opens her laptop and goes with a safe option. She calls up her dad, first - on her phone, actually, not her laptop; that's for later - and sees what he's got going on. She tries her best to be discrete about it, and Henry seems to be unaware of her gentle probing for info.

He's fine; his job is going okay, now that he's drinking less, and - so far as he tells her - nobodies been around to see if she's spoken to him recently.

Malia wonders if they did that at all. Or if they just… let her go.

"Bye dad." She says, at the end of the conversation, and hangs up.

Malia opens skype, hesitates her cursor over a few names. Malia doesn't know if Stiles took his laptop to wherever he ended up, so Malia doesn't call him.

That's her excuse, anyway. She still has his phone number.

Malia calls up - Liam, because he isn't Scott and he isn't Lydia and the call rings out for a few then:

"Malia?" Liam asks, surprised. Malia still isn't happy with him for bringing back Theo, but she doesn't really have any other less painful options, due to Kira no longer being around.

"Yeah." She says. "Been a while."

"No kidding," Liam frowns at her. "Scott's been worried. We all have."

Malia keeps her face carefully blank, and shrugs. "I arrived safe," She says, dry, and adds, "I thought that was - was all that was needed."

Liam - keeps frowning, but it softens. Malia doesn't really know what to say - it's only been a few months, but it feels like so much longer.

(Malia travels France as a coyote, now that she can. Perhaps it's due to that? After all, once Malia had turned back to human that first time, days felt like forever compared to what she was used to.

Maybe it's a similar thing.)

Liam looks her over. "Just… call more often, okay?" Malia nods, swallows. She cancels the call.

Two days later, Malia calls Scott.

"Hi." She says. Malia's using her phone because she doesn't think she could stand to see his face right now. "Were you ever planning on revising your 'had a connection like you guys' to Lydia or what?"

She's drunk. It's three am, here in France. Malia has no idea what time it is back in America.

There's a pause. "… You're drunk, Malia." Scott says, oh-so-soft, and Malia glowers at the ceiling.

Malia doesn't respond to that. Silence, for a moment. Then -

"… I was wrong." Scott says. Contrite. "The memories hadn't come back yet fully - I… I was wrong."

Malia feels - vindicated. But it hurts. She cancels the call.

Four days later, Malia calls Lydia.

"Fuck you," she says. "And I'm sorry for bailing."

Malia had heard about the fear guy, the hunters. Malia is sorry, but it's over now, and there's nothing she can do about what has happened in the past.

She would if she could. But she can't.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you," Lydia apologizes, genuinely.

Malia's lips twist. That wasn't what she'd swore for, but she'll let Lydia think it was. Lydia was sorry, after all. And Malia has gotten better at forgiveness because Malia wants to be nothing like her biological father.

It's been months. Malia should be over this by now. It's not even a betrayal - Malia wasn't dating him. He was just -

It's nothing. It can be nothing _but_ nothing, so Malia pushes aside those thoughts.

There's a pause, and then:

"… I thought you should know," Lydia says, "that-"

Malia hangs up.

"You should really pick that up."

Isaac is at the apartment, for once, and it just has to be when Malia gets another call. It's been a few weeks since she called Lydia, and Malia doesn't want to hear any of what she has to say. It's petty, Malia knows - but Malia has already said her part.

 _Fuck you. And I'm sorry._

Malia groans and closes her laptop; resigned. "You're right," She says, sighing.

"Always am," He says, then leaves, and she grumbles before grabbing the phone and hitting accept.

"What?" She demands.

"I was never dating Stiles and I'm sorry if we made it seem that way," Lydia rushes out, "And when I kissed him, he didn't kiss me back."

Malia - paused before hitting the end call button. Lydia takes this as permission to continue.

"Remember when I sensed he was in danger and ran off?" Lydia asks but doesn't give Malia time to respond or end the call. "I saved him from being shot by one of the Riders, and then from being choked to death by his fake mom - along with Noah; he shot her, I screamed - but, before we got accosted by her after I'd saved Stiles, I kissed him. It - it was kind of awkward. I squished his nose, and he just sort of stood there. So - I figured that I'd read things wrong; turns out I did. Stiles told me he loved me, Malia - I took that to mean he was _in love_ with me. There's - there's a difference."

Malia swallows, and Lydia seems to take a second before continuing.

"He'd have said the same to Scott or his Dad or - whoever he cared about to that extent that was in the car with him," Lydia says, and Malia takes this in. "I don't know what he would have said to you, but - I thought you should know."

"What took you so long to tell me?" Malia asks and regrets it. The hunters, of course. The fear guy.

"Things went to hell really fast." Lydia sighs. "I just.. forgot." Malia nods.

"… I'm sorry." Lydia says. Malia ends the call, but texts her - _Thanks._

 _Smart people make mistakes._

Malia - smiles, slightly, at the usage of that. It - hurts, though.

 _I know you might not want to but - talk to Stiles. Please._

Malia doesn't owe anyone anything. But she is owed an explanation.

Another week passes, and Malia finally stops avoiding the last person she needs to contact.

Malia hesitates - she can't call him, can't video chat; they'd both be a disaster.

Malia opens her laptop and deliberates over what to say.

 _It's been a while, I guess. It's been… long enough._

 _You up to talking?_

 _Mal_

Malia hesitates.

 _Malia_

Malia sends the message, the email, and waits.

 _Sorry that it took so long to reply. It's been a little hectic, catching up with what I missed when I left college to help out Scott and the others - the hunters and then Scott getting his eyes clawed out and having to talk him into healing, it was a mess - so I didn't see this for ages._

 _Kinda feels like a theme, huh? Nevermind, you won't get that._

 _Anyway… yeah. It's been - long enough._

 _I'd be good with talking, if you want, still._

 _Are we using full names now? Because I can't spell mine. Anyway; Stiles._

Malia is distracted for another month with helping out Isaac and Argent purge the Argent Hunters of any actual psychos, so she doesn't see the email she got in response until the snow started falling.

Malia grimaces and wraps her coat tighter. She'll be back at the apartment in a few seconds, and so she doesn't need to worry so much about the cold.

Malia gets into the apartment at a quarter to one on Friday morning. It's been weeks since she was last here, but her laptop had been dead and she'd only had enough time to put it on charge before needing to leave again.

Now, she gets inside, drops her coat, kicks off her shoes and grabs her laptop. Malia drops onto the couch and logs on - she'd probably just watch some youtube for a bit before nodding off Malia pauses - stops in her tracks. She's got an email.

Malia's suddenly hit with actual _fear_ and a fair bit of worry. Fear that it isn't him, worry that it is.

Malia clicks on the email, and reads it.

Stiles hasn't had the best few months, all things considered. He's out for the winter, though, so he's on his way back down to Beacon - Stiles met up with Scott on the way, and they've stopped at a motel.

"I hate these," Stiles grumbles, strides on into their room and drops his bag onto the right-most bed. "This one's mine," He says, and Scott nods, sighs.

"Me too," He mutters, drops his bag onto the other bed, gets out some travel soap and whatever and goes into the bathroom.

Stiles gets out his laptop. He's gained the habit of checking his emails every week at least once, and that's due.

Stiles pauses, sees the email. It's from yesterday. Stiles reads it, closes his eyes, and gets out his phone.

 _Yeah. I'd like that._

 _\- For now. Malia._

"Nobody stopped me," Malia admits. There's no greater way to get her to leave than to have nobody say she shouldn't.

"…I - yeah." Stiles lets out. "Yeah. Nobody stopped you in time."

It's a few days later. They're both a little drunk, which probably isn't the best idea but - Well. Neither of them really want to have this conversation.

"Nobody stopped you," Stiles repeats. His words ring hollow, and Malia frowns.

"Well yeah," Malia said. "Nobody came to see me off, either." "I tried," Stiles says, suddenly, and Malia nearly drops the phone. "I - " Stiles stops. Malia sits up, slowly, reaches for her laptop.

"I wanna talk on skype." She says, abrupt. "… Face to face."

Malia can almost see his nod - jerky and uncertain. She hears him rub his hand down his face before saying, "Yeah, okay." And cutting the call.

Malia opens up Skype and hesitates. Stiles calls first - she waits for a beat before answering.

… He still looks like Stiles. It's easy to see in his face; his features - but then, Stiles has always had a recognisable face. It's the little differences - longer hair, no longer 's no longer clean-shaven, either. Malia thinks he's still in his uniform because he's in a slightly rumpled white shirt, but he must have gotten uncomfortable because he's loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button.

He looks like an _adult._ Malia's suddenly terrifed of the fact that she's no longer a teenager.

"I havent had a chance to shave," Stiles says. "You look - good."

Malia's in an old T-Shirt and some shorts. She's not even sure if the T-shirt is hers, because it's a little too big - big enough to fall off her should and need a camisole underneath. Due to the weather, she's wearing leggings and a hoodie - Malia belatedly realises it was the one she'd never given back to him because Stiles -

"You too." Malia manages. "You look good."

There's an awkward pause. Malia thinks this is worse than whatever he'd said before. Malia brings up that again, because she'd rather that than this silence.

"Yeah." Stiles scratches the back of his neck, awkward and contrite. "I came to - I don't know. Convince you to stay, see you off." He pauses.

"Be there for you, I guess. Maybe - "

Stiles hesitated. Malia simply stared, and he looked away.

"Maybe see if you remembered. I - I didn't want to be selfish but I didn't want you to leave hating me."

Malia continues staring, and Stiles seems to flounder for something to say.

"Did you love me?" Malia asks. "Like you loved Lydia?"

 _There's a difference between loving someone, and being in love with them._

"Not the same way I loved Lydia." He said. "Not the same way I love Scott or my Dad."

Malia nods. It's… progress. She smiles slightly at the thought, and Stiles seems to take that as her smiling at him, and she''l let him, because, in a way, that kind of was Malia smiling at him.

Her memories of him. That she now has.

Malia paused.

"… you wanted to see if I rememberd what the others didn't, didn't you?" Stiles stops.

"So you did?" Stiles says. "You remembered that we-"

"Were together." Malia finishes. "Yeah, I remember."

"We broke up." Stiles says. "I think."

"Yeah, nobody was really sure about that." Malia says. "Even us." Stiles glances to the side, before looking back to Malia. "I'm sorry." "Smart people make mistakes." Malia says.

"Not just because they think it's right," Stiles says. "Sometimes they're just mistakes." Malia nods. Maybe, she thinks, they'll get through this.

"I think - " Stiles pauses. "Theo would really hate it if you came back, and also I don't want to have to get him a good present, so, how about you visit? For a week or so, around christmas?"

Malia laughs, slightly. "Yeah," She says. "Yeah, okay."

Stiles nods. "I'll meet you there." He says.

"You better." Malia nods. She cuts the call, leans back -

Smiles. It'll be good to go home for the holiday season. And maybe - just maybe - they can fix things. Malia is… hopeful.

It's a nice feeling.

End Notes

Tumblr prompt; had a choice of two. Chose this one.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	3. Gifts At Christmas

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at  works/13117182.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/M, Gen

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship:

Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Other Minor Relationships

Character:

Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate, minor Scott McCall - Character, other mentioned characters

Additional Tags:

Stalia, post season six au, season six au, Stalia AU, Roomates, holiday fic, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, because I am incapable of pure fluff apparently

Series:

Part 3 of Fic Idea Promts/Tumblr Stuffs/One-shots

Stats:

Published: 2017-12-23 Words: 1221

Gifts At Christmas

by CescaLR

Summary

Fic idea: stalia as roommates au! celebrating Christmas maybe?

Notes

Season six divergent au - Stiles was returned back safely. Lydia rescued him from the first rider, but they didn't kiss. Lydia ran off to find Noah, and Stiles bumped into Malia. They were interrupted by Claudia, who they fight off until Noah and Lydia's arrival. Malia hugged Stiles in relief, after Noah, and in return, Stiles kissed her. Much confusion is cleared up, all things are happy. In 6B, Malia did end up going to France but only temporarily. Stiles informed her about what was happening, she brought Isaac along with her when she went back alongside Chris (and, eugh, Gerard). Lydia and Parrish ended up together after 6b, Stiles and Malia are roommates in Virginia; Malia goes to a community college there, and Stiles is 'participating in an internship with the FBI' there, according to the wiki. Isaac has returned to America full-time, he shares an apartment with Scott between U.C Davis (where Scott goes) and the University of California, which Isaac attends. As it's Christmas, normally they'd all go back, but this year Stiles and Malia have had to stay behind due to a lot of annoyances with transport (the jeep breaking down, their tickets being wrong, etc, etc.)

hmmm… I'm not very good at fluff. Lol. Lemme try that, but it might be god awful. Sorry in advance.

See the end of the work for more notes

"So," Stiles says, winces and looks away from the computer screen. "That's why we can't get to

Beacon Hills in time. Sorry, dude."

Scott sighed. "It's fine," He grimaced. "Let's just - try not to make this a thing, okay? Are you gonna call your dad, or?"

Stiles winced. Malia showed up, carrying a glass of water she'd just gotten from the kitchen, and leaned over Stiles' shoulder so that she could see Scott properly. "I'll make sure of it," She says, waves with her other hand, "On that note, think you could drop a message to dad and - ugh, well,

Peter too, I guess." Scott nodded and Stiles sighed. "And yet I have to tell my dad myself."

"Course you do," Malia grinned. "We've mailed your presents, by the way, but I think they'll show up a bit later than planned," Malia adds, frowning in annoyance as she addresses Scott.

"That's fine," Scott says. "You'll make it for the next break though, right? And if you don't think you can I can drive over and pick you guys up on the way if need be."

"Yeah, we'll make it for the next break," Stiles promises. "Just in case," Malia adds, "We should probably set up a rendezvous point at a - I dunno, gas station or motel where our paths'd… converge, or whatever."

Scott nods. "That's for later though," he says. Sighs. "Anyway - Merry Christmas; we'll do a video chat during dinner tomorrow, sound good?"

"Perfect," Stiles grins. Malia smiles and waves. "See you then," She proclaims, then ends the call.

Malia turns to Stiles and grins. "I guess we should start with the presents?" She asks rhetorically, then kisses him quickly before moving to the couch. There are two presents on it; one from Stiles to Malia and one from Malia to Stiles.

"this is probably the first Christmas we've had together that hasn't been, you know, lost among all the horror." Stiles comments, as he goes to sit next to her on the couch.

Malia looks at him, flatly, her present to him held loosely in her hands. "Stiles," She says, then sighs, scoots over towards him and leans her head on his shoulder.

"Sorry," He mutters, places an arm around her waist. "It's - I'm just not exactly used to it."

"Neither am I," Malia laughs a little. "Christmas - god. When did I last celebrate it? When I was, what, eight?"

Stiles closes his eyes, briefly. "Man," He mutters. "We're not being very cheerful, are we?"

"Not really," Malia says dryly, before sitting up properly and turning towards him. "let's fix that," She says, placing Stiles' present on his lap before grabbing her own.

"Thanks," Stiles says, genuinely, before starting to unwrap it.

"I'm not very good at presents," Malia admits. "It's more the giving than the getting," Stiles says; something he's heard for years from his dad. "Though I might've only been told that because my dad also wasn't very good at choosing presents. So."

Malia smiles slightly. "What did you get him?"

"What I get him every year," Stiles says, grinning. "A mug. I'm not exactly very good at presents, either."

"Well, I mean - you got Lydia a TV, once." Malia laughs, and Stiles groans, "Oh, god she told you."

"Oh, you didn't get me a TV, then?" Malia teases, and Stiles laughs. "No, sorry to disappoint."

"Well, since I didn't get you one either I suppose it's fair," Malia allows, a smile tugging at her lips. "Anyway, get on with it."

"Alright, alright," Stiles says, tears open the package. Blinks.

"You were complaining about your current watch being all busted up," Malia says. "So I… got you a Batman one?"

Stiles laughs, leans over to hug her one-armed and press a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, Mal."

Malia grins. "It's not a novelty, either," Malia says. "I can see that," Stiles responds, turning it over. It's not overstated - it's a simple black leather watch with a slightly large (but not overly so) silver display. It's analog, and the watch's clockface is black with white indicators for each hour and the minutes in between, little numbers on twelve, three, six, and nine. The background of the clock is black, with a simple silver Batman logo, and the hour and minute hands are gold-toned, to mimic the yellow without being garish.

"Also," Malia adds, tone turning mischevious. "I used some of what little remains of Peter's money. So…" Malia trails off and Stiles laughs, shakes his head.

"This is great," Stiles affirms, before turning to Malia. "Your turn."

Malia nods and turns to her box. Stiles chews on his top lip slightly in anticipation and nervousness as Malia opens the box. She lifts the lid and lifts out the gift, blinking at it slowly.

It's a locket. On a short-ish silver chain, but Malia has no idea what the locket itself is made out of.

On the locket is the engraving of a coyote, running through the woods. Malia smiles, fond.

"Open the clasp," Stiles encourages, and Malia does so. On the inside, a blue material is present, along with two images printed on the inside of the back and the front half, and there are two very small charms safely stored away in each half.

On one side, the image is a small, old one - Malia looks about seven, perhaps. Her mother and father and sister are there - Malia thinks it might've been her Dad's birthday - and they're all smiling, laughing - _happy._ Malia looks at the other image - it's the pack; Scott and Lydia and Kira and Stiles and Malia. Malia remembers this moment - Melissa had snapped a picture of them all just hanging out, that summer before senior year. They're in the McCall's living room, with Lydia on the couch, reading some book on - whatever, Malia can't read the print on this small an image Kira is sitting on the floor, leaning against the armchair, which Scott is residing on. Malia and Stiles are taking up the other half of the couch, and they're all - happy.

The little charms are of a baseball bat and a coyote, and she smiles.

"This is -" Malia starts, and stops, because she isn't really sure of what to think.

"This is way better than a TV," She settles on, "Thank you."

Malia turns to Stiles and asks him to help her put it on, which he does. "Mine's terrible," Malia half-laughs half thinks whole-heartedly, and Stiles shakes his head, adamant. "Nope," Stiles says.

"I love this watch. I will wear it forever, I promise."

Malia smiles, at him, presses a kiss to his lips. "Thank you," She says, again. "I - I didn't know dad had that picture." Stiles sobers up - shrugs, scratches the side of his neck. "He had this - old camera, I guess, that he looked through a lot. I - offered to get the pictures put on a memory stick or DVD, or just - a physical copy, and I kinda got a copy of that image and saved it to be used for that." He nodded to the locket. "Which, well, yeah. He was gonna show you the photo album once we got to Beacon, but that… didn't end up happening. Obviously."

"So… that's my dad's present to me?" Malia says, her breath hitching. "That's -" "Yeah," Stiles agrees. "It is."

End Notes

Same as the last time; tidied up from Tumblr. Hope you liked this :D

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	4. As the Time Counts Down

As The Time Counts Down. CescaLR

Summary:

'Anonymous asked: Kissing your ex at midnight in new years stalia au? Pleaseeee'

Notes: For Anon (Tumblr).

It's 2:22 in the goddamn morning, have a Stalia fic, goodnight.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

* * *

It was late - just past eleven o'clock - on New Year's Eve.

"Do you think she'll get here in time?" Stiles asked, pacing back and forth, back and forth, as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Chill," Cora ordered, tone flat. "Malia's been in france, it's not a big deal if she doesn't get here for midnight."

"But it is!" Stiles spins around. "Scott's not here, Lydia's not here, literally we're the only two that made it, what if she doesn't show?"

By now, the whole plan was ruined. See - they'd had it all sorted out, Stiles had made sure. Or, he thought he had - but Scotty got delayed and delayed and delayed and Lydia - well, Stiles hadn't seen Lydia in person for a while, now, but at least she'd called in prior to all this (she'd told Stiles not to wait up for her; she was visiting Beacon for New Years - Stiles took that as a polite way of saying she was going to be spending the night with Jordan and likely having a lot of sex) - and Stiles doesn't really know about why nobody else has shown up, but here they are, Stiles and Cora, waiting on the assholes they call friends.

And Malia. Who Stiles hasn't spoken to in… a long time. He - well, he'd been hoping, maybe a little, that they could reconcile, at least; a new years resolution of starting over. Being friends again.

(Not that Stiles and Malia had started out as friends, and not that they'd ever only been friends - look, Stiles knew that it'd probably blow up in his face and Lydia might slap them both at some point, he's not an idiot, but Stiles doesn't want to lose any more friends, any more of the people he cares about.)

(That didn't make much sense. It's - Stiles is already drunk. Mostly so that he doesn't think too much… blame Cora.)

"She'll be here," Cora sighs, gets up and shoves Stiles into the armchair. Stiles drops down, less than gracefully, and sits there listlessly, staring over at the door with an incredibly intense glare. "She'd better," Stiles grumbled.

"Don't wanna spend New Years with just me then?" Cora asked dryly.

They both snorted. That had happened last year, and - well. Last year was last year.

Stiles glanced at his watch. Half eleven. Or maybe not - he really needed a new watch. "Half past," He informed Cora regardless, who raised an eyebrow at him and pointed to the much more relaible wall clock. "Nearly twenty-to, actually," She responded.

Stiles groaned.

* * *

One minute. Stiles was pacing again. By this time, Cora had given up on keeping him still, and had gone to get herself another beer. "Want one?" She asked, and Stiles gave an aborted nod. Cora passed him one, which he immediately took a swig of, before stopping to a halt just in front of the apartment's door.

"Glaring at it won't make her arrive, Stiles," Cora said, before dropping onto the couch and taking a long sip from her beer.

Stiles took another gulp of his. "I know." He grumbled. "But nobody's showed. Nobody."

Cora sighed, got up, and went over to pat him on the shoulder. "Chin up," She said, but her tone was too flat to be comforting. "Always next year."

Stiles snorted. They'd been saying this for three years now - and three times is a pattern. Stiles had pretty much given up all hope of a decent New Year's by this point.

Twenty seconds. Nineteen.

Stiles turned around.

Eighteen. "I guess I might as well set off then," Stiles grumbled.

Fourteen. A beat. Twelve. "Yeah," Cora sighed. She tossed him his keys from the coffee table, which he caught.

Nine. Stiles grabbed his coat, and -

The door opened. Stiles hadn't locked it, of course, since they were waiting on friends and if anyone tried to attack them. Well. That'd just be funny, by this point.

"Hey," Malia said, standing in the doorframe, breathless, hair a mess. "I had to run from the airport, the roads were all clogged up."

Five. "Oh." Stiles responded. Paused in the middle of putting on his coat.  
Four.

"Three!" The shout comes from the television, and since it had turned into a kind of white noise by this point, Stiles was startled enough to drop his drink.

"Two!"

"Happy New Year," Malia grinned, and Stiles looked at her and -

"Oh, for crying out loud," Cora grumbled.

Malia placed her hands on his shoulders, pulled him towards her - and this was something Stiles knew. Muscle memory; Stiles leaned down, slightly, tilted his head -

"One!"

They kissed.

"Whoo…" Cora muttered, "yay… and all that. I'm gonna get another beer." Cora left the two to their own devices - not that she could go far. The apartment; her apartment, only had a kitchenette, after all.

Malia leaned back, and grinned up at him. Stiles blinked. Multiple times.  
"Um." He said. "But I thought-?"

"Don't think," Malia said, grinning still. Her hair was a mess, her sweater had some tears in the sleeves and Stiles thinks it might've been raining - but she's stood there, grinning at him all the same.

"You broke up then?" Stiles asked, still bewildered, caught off-guard. Muscle memory, Stiles thinks - but old memory. Something he's so used to he'd forgotten. That's kind of funny - Stiles forgetting something. Hah.

"Ages ago," Malia smiled. "Though, uh…"

"What?" Stiles asked. "I mean -" Malia hesitated. "Lydia's not with Parrish."

Wha -

Oh.

"Wait - seriously?"

"I know right," Malia laughed, and Stiles couldn't help but follow along, caught in the same kind of incredulous feeling.

"My god," Stiles muttered, "I think the only people that haven't dated are us, by this point."

"Well we have," Malia laughed. "But yeah. You and Scott - the only ones."

Stiles shook his head. He couldn't help it - he pressed another kiss to her lips, and she hummed, happy. "happy new year, Stiles," She said, after they broke apart. "You too," Stiles replied.

"Come on now," Cora sighed. "Cousin, good friend - please, take this elsewhere."

Malia nodded rapidly, grabbed Stiles by the shoulder - belatedly, Stiles realised he still only had half his coat on - and dragged him away.

"See you next year!" Stiles called back.

"Whatever Stilinski!" Cora replied, before slamming the door behind them.

* * *

"Well that worked out quite well," Cora muttered to herself. "Now - where'd I put that beer?…"

* * *

Notes:

:D


End file.
